


Anchorage

by cjmarlowe



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Frenemies, M/M, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:37:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjmarlowe/pseuds/cjmarlowe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan explores what it's like to touch. Takes place during 2.02: "Fear and Loathing". Kink bingo square: bodies and body parts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anchorage

Nathan doesn't mean to go to the marina. He's been waiting all day for enough time alone to remind himself of all of the sensations he's forgotten without anyone watching and anyone judging; the last thing he means to do is go anywhere other than home. But dark finds him heading towards the water, and the boat he's already spent more than enough time on, today or any other day. Maybe it's _because_ he knows this can't last that his instincts tell him not to spend it alone.

He walks up the slip to find Duke already out on deck waiting for him.

"How did you know?"

Duke shrugs. "Lucky guess," he says, and finishes his beer and stands up to offer Nathan a hand he doesn't need to board. "Where else would you go?"

"Anywhere else," says Nathan, and scratches his elbow and savors the sharpness of his fingernails on his skin. "Anywhere but here."

"Are you coming inside or not?" says Duke. "Because I'm not going to wait all night."

"Sure looks like you were going to," says Nathan, but he ducks his head and goes downstairs because he didn't come all this way just to turn around and leave again.

"Drink?"

"No," he says, and reaches out and brushes his fingers over the stubble at Duke's jaw, brief and soft as a whisper. Duke doesn't stop him, doesn't flinch away for even a moment, and doesn't ask for an explanation that Nathan can't give. "I'm good."

"I'm sure you are," says Duke, and the way his jaw moves against Nathan's fingers is fascinating all on its own. People never pay attention to the little miracles like this. "You've always been a little too good."

"Not always," he says, and finally forces himself to pull his fingers back because he didn't come here tonight to feel up Duke's jaw. "I'm sorry. It's been—"

"I know how long it's been." 

Duke had been there when Nathan's Trouble had returned, so it seems preordained he's here now that it's disappeared again. Different circumstances. Different sensations. Different outcome. And maybe their past would never quite be water under the bridge, but at least there were good times too. At least Duke had been there, when so many other people hadn't. And if for a while they only talked when there was a gun and a badge involved, well, at least they talked.

"I shouldn't be here."

"Probably not," says Duke, "but who else are you going to trust not to call in the morning?"

Nathan's using him, but they both _know_ he's using him and this is the one time he thinks he can trust Duke not to call it in as a favor a few weeks from now. Or at least not to call it in as a favor in front of anyone, and not to call it that because that would just seem a little too cheap to both of them.

"Maybe I want someone to call in the morning."

"Best you're going to get out of me is bacon and eggs," said Duke, "and only if you're even still around. Now are we going to move this into the bedroom or do you want it quick and dirty right here?"

"I don't want anything quick," says Nathan. It comes out a little too wistfully, but maybe his always-quiet voice masks it more than he thinks it does. Then again, this is Duke, so nothing he does is masked right now.

Dirty's still on the table.

"No, I guess you wouldn't," says Duke, and when Nathan touches his arm and feels all of the hairs suddenly stand on end, Duke doesn't stop him from doing that either. Though he does smirk a little; Nathan can't really begrudge him that much. "You're going to make this worth my while, right?"

"That's a safe bet," says Nathan. He wants to touch everything, and be touched by everything, so if Duke is patient—and Nathan knows he _can_ be, if the incentive is right—then he's going to get his investment's worth. "Take your shirt off."

"You think you can order me around now?" says Duke. "You haven't been able to do that since we were kids."

"I couldn't do it when we were kids, either," says Nathan, but Duke's already taking his shirt off, so even if he's acting like it's his own idea, Nathan doesn't care right now. He presses his fingers to Duke's collarbones, then his lips, and catalogues the different sensations of each. He never paid attention before. When he was younger, after the Troubles had passed the first time, he hadn't been thinking about them ever coming back again.

He should've listened to his father, but it's a lot of days past too late for that now.

"You want to hurry up with that?" says Duke as Nathan starts to work his way south, brushing his tongue over the fine hairs and feeling the way they tickle against him.

"Not really," he says, mumbling the words against Duke's skin. His shirt is unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders, and Nathan grips it with his hands just to know what the fabric feels like in his fists.

"We're definitely moving this into the bedroom now," says Duke. "Actually, no. I'm locking the door and _then_ we've moving into the bedroom."

"Because you never know who might show up in the middle of the night."

"Because I know _exactly_ who might show up in the middle of the night," he says, peering up the stairs for a moment before bolting it shut. The portholes by his bed are already covered, so at least they don't have to worry about the fish.

Duke lets his shirt drop before they reach the bed and doesn't give it a second glance so Nathan doesn't either. The texture of the shirt is fascinating against his fingertips, but nothing is more sensual than skin and after a day of ignoring the blessing in favor of following clues and enduring stubbed toes and jammed fingers and a dozen other things he'd forgotten and didn't care to remember, the sensual is all he wants, even if he doesn't want to say that.

"Remember when—" Duke starts, and Nathan puts a finger to his lips. Duke looks at him like he's being ridiculous; maybe he should have smacked a whole hand over his mouth but the end result is the same. He doesn't want to hear it.

"Probably," he says, and lets Duke suck the finger into his mouth. He remembers nearly everything they've ever done together, to one another, for one another or in opposition to one another, all neatly inventoried in the back of his mind. He doesn't need to reminisce. "I'm supposed to be doing that."

Duke bites him rather than answer. It's good to know that some things never change.

Nathan had forgotten that you could feel breath on your skin, that subtle sensations like that even existed. Of all of the things he'd rediscovered already tonight, that one's the real revelation: that the tingle of Duke's breath on the back of his hand is as intense as the sharpness of his teeth on Nathan's finger. He feels his own breath catch as Duke seems to realize what's happening without Nathan having to say a word, releasing his finger and blowing on his palm, his wrist, then his collarbone, his throat.

"Jesus," says Nathan, and is a bit relieved when Duke doesn't reply with "You called?" because they're at least half their clothes beyond that right now.

"I can make this better," says Duke, and Nathan practically feels the words rather than hears them, they're so soft and Duke's mouth is so close to his skin. 

They strip off everything that's left, skin on skin on skin on skin, and Nathan is almost lost for a moment before Duke brings him back with the barest touch of teeth to his nipple. "Jesus," he says again, then clenches his teeth when Duke does it to the other.

Duke hand brushes against the small of his back and Nathan starts abruptly, pulling away and looking back over his shoulder. But he's between Duke's mouth and Duke's fingertips now and there's no escaping the relentless sensation. There's nowhere to back away too, unless he leaves the bed, leaves the room, leaves the boat. There's no backing down now unless he wants to risk never having it.

Duke murmurs something but all Nathan feels is the movement of his lips against skin, and he breathes and closes his eyes and lets that be enough in and of itself. His brain isn't used to processing this, but that's just making it all the better, he thinks.

"Are you going to let me fuck you?" Duke asks him a moment later, pulling his head away so that he can be heard, each word enunciated so that there's no chance of misunderstanding.

"Slowly," says Nathan. "Carefully."

"Are you sure?" says Duke. "Because if I don't have to be careful, I can _really_ make sure that you feel it."

Nathan feels the hairs on his arms stand up at that, feels the sudden and heavy thud of his heart in his chest as the thought of that slams into his brain. "I'm not sure of anything," he says, "but..." And while he catches his breath he keeps Duke at arm's length.

"You don't trust me," says Duke.

"I can't," says Nathan, "but I trust you enough for this." There are days when he wishes he could, but the memories are too deeply entrenched. This will have to be enough. And so he does what he never thought he would—he lets go and lets Duke do what he wants with him.

At first he doesn't seem to know quite what to do with it, staring down at Nathan like he's an unexpectedly-won prize. Then his lips are on Nathan's body again and Nathan's closing his eyes and letting Duke cover part after part of him. His collarbones. His wrists. His thighs. His spine. Every one of them kissed and sucked and stroked until he thinks he's going a little out of his mind. Despite his drive to do it now and do it hard, Duke has a kind of patience Nathan never dreamed he was capable of. He's not sure which one of them is fetishizing his skin more.

Then Duke swallows his cock and Nathan almost wants to weep for what he's been missing for so long.

"Just do it," he says, arching up against him. "Just fuck me."

Duke sucks him a little longer in spite of it, and Nathan's not sure he's ever heard him go so long without something to say. But then finally he's pulling off and pushing Nathan's thighs open and he's hardly gotten used to _that_ yet, the feel of his hands, the subtle stretch of muscles he doesn't use in quite that way very often, before Duke's slicked up and pushing two fingers inside him. And Nathan can tell exactly how many, can feel the angle of them as Duke turns his wrist and crooks his fingers. It might not be a familiar sensation, but he's not missing one little bit of it, memorizing every moment.

Even now, he's just waiting for it all to be taken away from him again.

"All right," says Duke finally, a harsh and desperate sound, and Nathan feels his cock pulse, the rush of blood and muscle contractions causing it to physically move without him even trying. "You, you want it."

Nathan digs his elbows into the bed and feels Duke's fingers digging into his thighs, _feels_ them, and then he's pushing inside. There's no way Nathan can miss feeling that.

He hisses and tenses up and Duke's fingers just dig in harder until he's all the way in and gasps out a few heaving breaths. "Been too long," he murmurs finally.

"For you or for me?" said Nathan. 

There's too much now, the signals getting crossed. It's hard to tell where he ends and Duke begins and he always thought that was a ridiculous description of love or sex or partnership until right now when he's in the middle of feeling it. Maybe these sensations are normal for other people, maybe they know from early childhood what they mean, but try going without them for a few years and see what happens. Nathan's having trouble sorting out what means what and what is doing what, and he almost doesn't care because pain and pleasure are blurring and there's something exciting about not being sure where sensations are coming from.

That's probably really fucked up, but Nathan is going to enjoy it.

Duke's forehead is slick with sweat, slipping against Nathan's shoulder where he rests it. It's strange how sharply he focuses on that, just for a moment, because it's _different_. The swarm of sensation finally begins to focus—Duke's hot breath against his shoulder, the push of his hips against Nathan's thighs, the increasing intensity of his thrusts. There are sounds, too, but sounds are everyday. Sensations aren't.

Duke touches his cock again, just touches it, and _that_ is what sends everything tumbling over the edge. He gasps as he comes, but there's no end to the sensation; Duke thrusts harder, faster, almost desperately, and Nathan feels like he keeps coming until Duke stops abruptly, deep inside him, and comes himself.

Nathan can feel that too.

Duke isn't quiet or still afterwards. He touches him, kisses his skin, runs fingers and hands over him, and does all of this before he even pulls out. Nathan is dizzy with it and does nothing to stop him.

He's drowsy now, though. It was late when they started and it's later now, and Duke's hands finally get slower on his skin until they're just resting there. He thinks about saying something, but everything's already out there. Duke pulls the blankets up in a haphazard way, over already overheating skin, and Nathan closes his eyes and lets himself get some rest. He can trust Duke as far as that.

Nathan leaves just before dawn, because despite the half-serious offer of bacon and eggs, and despite the fact that he doesn't want to pull himself away from the sensation of Duke's skin against his own, Duke's hair against his hand and Duke's blankets against his hips, even more than that he doesn't want to have to explain this visit to anyone.

One of the reasons he came to Duke in the first place is because he didn't have to explain anything at all, and he didn't have to make or receive any promises.

As he tiptoes out, he sees Duke watching him lazily, lying on his back now with his eyes only half open. Nathan gives him a nod and gets a nod in return and that's all that needs to be said. If this lasts, then maybe he'll come back again, and if it doesn't...he'll deal with that when the time comes.

He always does.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Anchorage by cjmarlowe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011371) by [fire_juggler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fire_juggler/pseuds/fire_juggler)




End file.
